Now We Know What Not To Do Again: Old Version
by BlasterBlurby
Summary: Timetravel fic. Harry Potter, now named Godfrey, discovers a spell that could send him back in time, but to defeat Voldemort he will have to do more than just survive. He will have to learn how to live, and the marauder's are willing to teach him.
1. I Think I Did Have Good Days

**Author's Note:** Yo! My name is **BlasterBlurby** and this will be my first Harry Potter fan fiction. It will also be my first time travel fic. It'll be a bit dark, but I guarantee a happy ending. The main pairing will be Sirius/Harry but I'm going to have Harry be with other people too. I hope to update this fic at least once a month, but no guarantees. Enjoy. Review.

**Warning: This chapter was rewritten on February 25, 2011.**

* * *

Now We Know What Not To Do Again

I Think I Did Have Good Days

* * *

_Remembering the laughter is easier said than done_

_And I can hardly recall what it was like to have fun_

_They say they will fix me, but I don't know how_

_Everything just seems so cold and hopeless now_

_I think I did have good days; at least that's what they say_

_But I find that hard to trust when I can't keep these nightmares at bay_

_So I'll sit here, sleepless, and try to feel what I felt then_

_Maybe, just maybe, I can learn how to love again_

* * *

**Date: February 4, 2000; 6:24 am **

**Location: Hogwarts Castle**

**Condition: Under Siege**

* * *

Harry James Potter was tired, so inconceivably tired.

He was tired of the war.

He was tired of fighting a losing battle.

And he was tired of surviving while he watched others succumb to death's tender mercy.

It almost made him jealous.

The nineteen year old had been standing on the parapet of the northern castle wall since sometime late last night and had become as stationary as a gargoyle. It was particularly cold that night and if not for the enchantments woven into his clothing Harry would have frozen within the first hour.

From his crouched position on the wall Harry could see Hogsmeade, where the Dark Army had set up camp after the Order dug in at Hogwarts. The cleared area around the castle was littered with the evidence of war. Crushed siege engines lay crumpled, burned, and defeated wherever the school had succeeded in warding off yet another attempt by the Dark Army to conquer Hogwarts. Bodies also lay forgotten throughout the battle-torn field in various stages of decay. Most of them were Death Eaters, but some were of the Order.

It had been Harry's most unpopular order when the young commander had decreed that if the body was outside the castle walls then it was to be left there. He wasn't fond of the idea either, but too many people were dying in their attempts to bring back the corpses for a proper burial. It was the closest Harry had ever been to a mutiny, but eventually they accepted the necessity of such an order.

But Harry was risking hypothermia for more than a glimpse of hell. He was thinking. Planning.

When the sky began to lighten Harry knew what to do.

First he apparated to Diagon Alley, which as Headmaster he had the power to do despite Hogwarts' extensive wards. The decrepit street looked bleak in the morning light. As Harry walked the length of Diagon Alley he tried to remember what the dull, lifeless street was like before the war, but he couldn't.

He couldn't remember a lot from before the war.

During the first battle of Hogwarts a misaligned oblivius charm struck him by accident and erased every fond memory he had. Harry could no longer remember if he had ever felt any happy feelings in his life.

While she was still alive Hermione had taken upon it herself to try and help him remember, but it was a lost cause. Some things just couldn't be recovered, and having someone tell you that this person was nice to you or that you were particularly happy when you got your first broomstick was like reading about someone else's life. It never seemed real.

Before she died Harry had avoided Hermione as much as her stubbornness would allow. The young witch hid it well, but Harry could feel how much it distressed her that he couldn't remember and that he didn't care if he remembered. He didn't understand what could be so different about the Harry-from-before and the Harry now. They had the same face and most of the same memories, but something vital was missing. He could see it in the way people flinched around him.

At first Harry had tried to pretend, but he couldn't. He just didn't understand the Harry-from-before, and why he did the things he had done. After Hermione's death he ceased trying.

Making his way into Gringotts, which seemed wholly untouched by the war, Harry withdrew every galleon, sickle, and knut he had. Storing them in a leather pouch enchanted to be bottomless. The goblins didn't give it a second thought. Harry guessed withdrawing all of your worldly fortune in one day was common place now.

Next Harry went to one of the few stores still in business at Diagon Alley. It was one he had never taken much interest in before, but was now crucial to the success of his plan.

When he entered the empty shop Harry was, at first, worried that the proprietor had cleared out like so many of the other business owners. Harry's fears were soon abetted when a young male, no older than twenty, stepped from a back room.

"Can I help you?" The man's voice was as dreary as the dilapidated store.

Harry pushed back the hood of his dragon skin cloak and watched the clerk's reaction. Most people saw the burns first, but this man's gaze went straight to his forehead where a lightning bolt had been seared into his flesh eighteen years ago.

"Mr. Potter! H-how can I be of service," the clerk was just beside himself now that he knew he had such a legend in his salon. That was good. There had always been a chance that the clerk would have refused service out of a well placed fear that Voldemort would seek retribution against anyone aiding his most sworn enemy.

"I need to change my appearance permanently," Harry answered brusquely as he took a seat on the dusty swivel chair the clerk offered him. The clerk was shakily wiping the dusty vanity in front of the chair while throwing anxious looks through the mirror.

"O-of course," the clerk stuttered as he opened a case filled with various vials of potions and took out his wand. "How would you like to look Mr. P-potter?"

Harry peered silently at the man through the mirror and asked, "Have you performed similar magic on yourself?" Vanity magic was incredibly expensive and very difficult to perform when it came to making it undetectable, permanent, and natural looking. The clerk was beautiful, every feature of his face and body was artfully done and Harry suddenly knew the man was not nearly as young as he appeared to be.

"Yes," the clerk answered nervously, "I completely re-do myself every few years or so."

"Then I'll trust you to make the appropriate changes, I would, however, like to keep the scar." Harry did not elaborate on which scar. He didn't have too.

It was three hours before the clerk announced that he was finished.

Harry, who was now standing naked on raised platform, turned to admire his new appearance. Where he had once been ordinary, handsome at best, he was now beautiful and as striking as the bolt the still anointed his brow.

His hair, while still inky black, was now long and silky, ending near the backs of his thighs. Harry's bangs were long enough to conceal his scar but still short enough that he had no trouble seeing through them. Harry was struck when he looked in the mirror and instead of emerald he saw the pale green of Avada Kedavra staring back at him. His face had also changed. It was less round than his old face and his cheek bones were higher. It was, overall, a very aristocratic look.

Harry smirked and his mouth didn't look crooked now, because the burns that had marred the right side of his face were now gone and replaced with smooth porcelain skin.

Next the youth examined his body, and was pleased with what he saw. Most of his disfiguring scars were gone but the ones that remained looked more like decorations than imperfections. Harry traced the claw marks that ran from his right nipple to his left hip with long, elegant fingers and was glad the clerk had left it. Some things should be remembered.

Overall Harry was very pleased, he looked nothing like his old self and that was exactly what he wanted.

"I couldn't completely heal your eyes, so you will need a pair of reading glasses, but otherwise this is one of my best workings yet," the clerk informed him. The pride in his work was well earned. A vanity mage needed more skill than a troupe of aurors. "You should change your name," the man said eagerly, but looked like he instantly regretted it.

"Really," Harry said quietly while he looked at himself in the body length mirrors. He had planned on changing his last name, but hadn't considered changing his entire name.

"N-no offense m-meant Mr. P-potter," the man stuttered hastily.

"No offense taken. It is an interesting idea," Harry replied to soothe the clerk's fears before the man started to really panic. In recent years he had developed notoriety for being violent, as if you could afford being temperate during a war.

"I-it's just that while Harry is a fine name," the clerk hastened to assure Harry, "It h-hardly suits you now."

Looking into the mirror Harry couldn't help but agree with the man. Ever since he was partially obliviated the young wizard had felt like an imposter pretending to be the famous Harry Potter, and he was tired of playing the role.

As far as he was concerned Harry James Potter died two years ago. It was time to bury him properly.

"I suppose you're right," the long-haired youth smiled coolly down at the man from the platform, "Would you happen to have any ideas?"

The man began to list names that were far too long and contrived to be comfortable saying on a regular basis.

"I would rather have a shorter name." And instantly the names being listed became shorter and finally he heard one that felt right.

"Godfrey," he tested the name and found that he liked the sound of it. "I am Godfrey," the boy declared, imbuing the statement with magic to make it a true naming.

"It was an honor meeting you Godfrey," the clerk said while shaking his hand vigorously.

After dressing and paying, Godfrey left the salon to buy some new reading glasses which were thin, frameless, and much more flattering than his old, round framed glasses which he didn't hesitate to throw in the nearest rubbish bin.

On a whim Godfrey turned into Knockturn Alley and into a tattoo parlor. Godfrey did not intend to get a tattoo, but instead was soon leaving the seedy store with a silver earring dangling from his left ear.

He was still twisting it thoughtfully when he apparated into Dumbledore's office. Even though Godfrey was technically the headmaster he still considered it Dumbledore's office. After Headmistress McGonagall was assassinated over a year ago there were no teachers willing to take up the job and so Hogwarts itself chose him to take her place.

Godfrey sat at Dumbledore's desk and stared at the book that was going to change everything. It was ancient and written by none other than Rowena Ravenclaw. The crumbling pages held many powerful spells, one of which could send the user back in time. For a price.

The raven-haired wizard would have to use every ounce of his skill to make this work. Performing the ritualistic spell was just half the challenge. The real hardship would be what came after.

His thoughts were interrupted by a frantic banging on the door.

Godfrey stood and drew his hood over his head, concealing his new face. No one would consider it odd if Godfrey hid his countenance, because Harry had often done so after his face became so severely scarred.

Godfrey opened the door to a frantic Neville.

"Harry the death eaters are attacking the north wall again!"

Godfrey followed him through the halls to the north wall and began to help repel the dark wizards. The Dark Army's giants were trying to break down the fortified gates when he arrived, but were soon driven back when the Order began to drop huge chunks of stone on top of them. Godfrey admitted it was crude, but it was more effective than spells at driving the thick skinned brutes away.

As quick as the attack started it was over. The only casualties being a Death Eater and a male giant, both having been crushed by the boulders.

"The doors nearly shattered that time," Neville whispered fearfully, and he was right, the castle would fall soon. Godfrey had to act now.

"Neville come with me," he ordered. The young Headmaster had become accustomed to giving orders and having them obeyed, so he did not wait to see if Neville was following when he strode away towards Dumbledore's office.

Godfrey would need help performing the ritual and Neville was the only person he trusted to do it right. The war had improved Neville Longbottom's skills tremendously and while Godfrey would have rather been doing this with the help of Hermione that was no longer an option. So when Neville looked up from the pages of the dusty tome with determination shining in his dark eyes Godfrey put him to work.

While Neville was busy setting up the Room of Requirement, Godfrey was packing the things that he would need, but would not be able to acquire in the past. He would have to be careful of what he brought, because something like Gryffindor's sword or the Marauder's Map would be very suspicious and impossible to explain without the truth. Harry would even have to discard his wand as soon as the spell that would send him twenty-two years into the past was over.

Looking around his bedchamber Godfrey found that there was little he could take with him that didn't pertain to the future or his family ties. Finally he opened his trunk and packed his armor, his cloak of invisibility, some essentials and with a small smile he lifted his miniature Hungarian horntail and set it in the trunk, trusting that it wouldn't wreak havoc among his possessions.

After long minutes of consideration, Godfrey lifted the sword of Gryffindor from its place on the wall. The sword, which had sat on display in the headmaster's office for so long, would once again be used in battle. Somehow, he felt that the founder would have approved.

Next he went back to his office and set about forging the many documents he would need, with the help of the portraits of previous headmasters. In two hours he had a fake birth certificate, transfer paperwork that proved he was home schooled until his foster family's death and that he was applying for enrollment for his seventh year at Hogwarts, and a very heart wrenching letter from his guardian that was sure to make the past Dumbledore sympathetic.

He knew this, because Dumbledore's portrait helped him write it.

After eating the dinner a timid house elf brought him Godfrey tucked his shrunken trunk and papers in his pocket, and made to leave the office when he remembered what else was concealed in his pocket. The raven-haired boy slowly pulled the silver heirloom from his pants until the small locket attached to a thin chain was dangling from his clenched fist.

In spite of his damaged memories Godfrey could remember the day his mentor died as vividly as if were yesterday. He had taken to carrying the locket to remind himself of the cost of this war, the sacrifice it would demand.

Now he was about to sacrifice his future for the sake of the past.

Taking the locket, Godfrey walked to a mirror that hung on the office wall and tied his long, silky hair back into a high ponytail with the thin chain. Tying back his hair seemed to make his new face seem harsher, unforgiving, and Godfrey approved of the look.

After he was done he left for the Room of Requirement.

As Godfrey expected Neville had done a fantastic job setting up the small room. The entire chamber was painted with archaic designs in dragon's blood that had been mixed with the appropriate herbs beforehand. The haggard boy was just finishing setting the candles in their appropriate positions when the young headmaster walked in.

"Good job Neville," Godfrey complimented.

Turning around, Neville just about jumped out of his skin when he saw him and Godfrey realized he hadn't pulled his hood back on after tying his hair. Longbottom's wand was out and pointing at him before he could say anything.

"W-who are you and what have you done—," Neville was cut off when quicker than his dark brown eyes could follow; Godfrey had his wand out and was silently disarming him with an expelliarmus.

"It's me Neville," Godfrey informed his terrified friend, "I had to change my appearance or there would have been questions."

"O-oh! Right on Harry, I wouldn't have thought of that," Neville replied excitedly. "I'm finished with the set up so all you have to do is take your position, say the incantation, and then snap your wand," he hesitated, "Harry are you sure about this? The book said that if you performed this magic you wouldn't be born in your time, because two people can't exist at once, and you'll never be able come back!"

"I'm fine with it Neville," Godfrey comforted the man he had grown to like during the time since his memories were altered, "It's not like I'll disappear all together or anything, and the reward is well worth the sacrifice. Just imagine it Neville. I could make sure that your parents were never tortured and that the second war never happens."

Fat, glistening tears were rolling down his face, "But Harry—," Neville trailed off, unable to continue.

Godfrey stepped carefully to the center of the room where seven white candles were set in a large circle. He laid himself on the cold, stone ground and spread his arms and legs like the picture depicted in the spell book. Staring up at the arrayed ceiling he said, "I'm ready for this Neville, even if you aren't."

He was ready to leave Harry Potter's shadow.

Godfrey could hear Neville crying from across the room as he began to speak the incantation. The book said the spell had to be spoken in three different languages to work. The book provided the Latin and English translation, and Godfrey would provide the parseltongue.

First he spoke it in Latin, then in English, and finally in the hissing tone of parseltongue.

_Give me power to rewrite the past, and I give up a future no longer cast._

_By dragon's blood I am no more_

_By dragon's blood I am sent to before_

_By my future, no longer mine, I wish to travel back in time._

On the last word Godfrey took out his wand, and snapped it in two.


	2. This Facade I Am Stuck With

**Author's Note:** 'Ello! I've been on a writing binge! Here's the next chapter.

**Warning: This chapter was rewritten on February 25, 2011.**

* * *

Now We Know What Not To Do Again

This Façade I Am Stuck With

* * *

_In world where I can't be myself_

_And I must display my life on a shelf_

_I find solace in hiding the finer details, as if it matters_

_To the deceived when the lies begin to shatter_

_And when all my deceit has reached its zenith_

_All that's left is this façade I am stuck with_

* * *

**Date: August 30, 1978; 9:00 am**

**Location: Hogwarts Castle**

**Condition: Closed for Summer Vacation**

* * *

When Godfrey's consciousness recovered from being hurled twenty-two years back in time he found himself lying in an unadorned stone chamber that he recognized as the Room of Requirement before Neville had painted it in dragon's blood.

Sitting up, Godfrey waited for the room to stop spinning before he stood. He felt something slip from his hands and saw that it was the splintered remnants of his wand. For a moment the boy felt a little heartbroken before he consoled himself that he could simply get the same wand at Ollivander's. Stooping, Godfrey picked up the two pieces and stowed them in his pocket to later dispose of.

It was time to find out if the spell had really worked.

Godfrey found his answer soon after exiting the Room of Requirement when he ran into Professor McGonagall on his way to Dumbledore's office.

"What are you doing here young man!" the professor seemed utterly astonished, "The school year doesn't start for another three days!"

"I'm looking for Dumbledore's office," Godfrey replied smoothly, slipping into his new role with ease, "I was sent here to ask to be enrolled in the seventh year."

"Albus hasn't informed me of any transfers," she sounded a bit baffled.

"That would be because he doesn't know about any transfers. My guardian has sent me with the necessary paperwork, but I think he forgot to send word that I was coming," he lied effortlessly.

McGonagall pressed her lips in a thin line that said just what she thought of people who forget to tell schools they were sending them new students. "Come along then," the older witch told him tersely, and he marched along behind her like a good little soldier until they came to the gargoyle that safeguarded the headmaster's office.

"Chocolate frogs," she told it, and the gargoyle sprang from its position and allowed the two entrance.

"What do we have here Minerva?" Dumbledore's eyes twinkled at him from across his desk and Godfrey's throat tightened as he held back the impulse to touch the locket that was twined in his hair.

"He's a transfer student," she informed Dumbledore, "His guardian seems to have forgotten to send word beforehand, but he says he has the paperwork—," the witch trailed off, looking at Godfrey expectantly.

The long-haired youth pulled the folded papers from the pocket of his cloak, and handed them the headmaster.

After a few long minutes Dumbledore looked up from his fake guardian's letter with tears glimmering in his eyes. Godfrey was a little taken aback, though he shouldn't have been, considering what was written in the sordid letter was as close to the truth as he could manage, and because the portrait had him write it specifically for the reason to tug on Dumbledore's heartstrings.

_Dear Headmaster,_

_I did not send word ahead, because I was afraid that if you didn't see Godfrey in the flesh than you might've refused him enrollment in your school, and it is imperative that you don't._

_The boy standing before you has, since birth, encountered only a series of unfortunate events. When he was still an infant a madman broke into his family's home and murdered his parents. (It is unsure why Godfrey was left alive.) As a result he was sent to live with muggle relatives that neglected and abused him until the age of ten when he ran away from home. From what I can guess and from what little he has told me Godfrey stumbled into the wizarding world around that time._

_You can imagine the kind of wizards a beautiful, uneducated, and homeless orphan boy would attract. I do not think he was ever a death eater but he certainly was associated with many dark wizards and witches. I know that he was at least present at one of their raids, because my family was among the victims. Days after the night I came home to find the dark mark above my house I was tracked down by the young man you see before you. At first I was terrified that he had been sent to finish me off, but was then surprised when the boy began to beg my forgiveness._

_One might think I would be full of vengeful fury, but I could only find pity for the boy who had become just as he was molded to be. I took him in and began teaching him what I could. In the short year I have tutored him he has grown in leaps and bounds, and now there is nothing else I can teach him._

_Godfrey thinks I have sent him to Hogwarts to learn more magic, but I have sent him in hopes that he will learn a more important lesson. One, I alone, have been unable to teach him. Godfrey is strong, but he is broken in ways I couldn't repair. I think being among others his own age and under your influence he will finally be able to heal._

_I will probably be dead by the time this letter reaches you. Godfrey and I have been fleeing the death eaters for nearly a year but I have been feeling the will to survive drain out of me over time. I am tired of running away. Godfrey knows what I intend to do, I didn't tell him, but he has a way of knowing these things._

_I beg of you to take him in, because by now he will have no other home._

_Sincerely,_

_Ferdinand Jerkle_

_P.S. The falsified papers I have sent with him should ease the enrollment._

"Is he—," Dumbledore started but trailed off as he looked sorrowfully at the seventeen year old that looked too young and too old all at once.

"Yes," Godfrey replied stonily, "He died this morning."

There was a sharp intake of breath as Professor McGonagall guessed what they were talking about.

The letter had really been ingenious on the portrait's part. There was no way Dumbledore would refuse him admittance to the school now. Godfrey had written the letter exactly as the portrait Dumbledore told him to, even if he detested that it made him appear weak. The young wizard knew that Dumbledore meant what he said about Godfrey being broken, and though he disagreed with the portrait he committed it to the letter.

"My deepest condolences to you," Dumbledore was looking at him appraisingly now. "Your paperwork seems to be in order. Although," he trailed off, glancing at the forms, "None of these forms mention a last name." The question was clear in his voice.

"I have no family, so I don't have a family name," Godfrey answered firmly.

"Ah," Dumbledore accepted, "You can stay at my expense at the Leaky Cauldron until the school year begins in three days."

"Thank you Headmaster," Godfrey dipped his head, "but my guardian has left me sufficient funds so that will be wholly unnecessary. If I could have the use of your fireplace I will be on my way."

Dumbledore watched him for a moment before standing and beckoning him to the fireplace. Reaching into a nearby pot Godfrey threw a handful of floo powder into the flames and watched as the blaze turned bright green.

"Here is the list of supplies you will need during the school year and your train ticket. When you get there tell Tom I sent you, and he will assist you in finding them," he was told by Dumbledore as he was handed what the young wizard assumed was a list. Godfrey nodded absently and strode into the flames while at the same time thinking of the Leaky Cauldron.

At first Godfrey was a bit baffled by the condition of the tavern, but then concluded that the war must not have been the reason for the future business's state of disrepair. He acquired a room without much fuss and without having to drop Dumbledore's name.

The strikingly beautiful wizard was now exploring Diagon Alley with a barely subdued gusto. Hermione's descriptions of the place before the war did not do it justice. Where the alley Godfrey could remember was cold and dreary, this new one was alive and vibrant. Even the steadfast indifference that was usually his response to everything was temporarily thrown off by Godfrey's sheer amazement.

Godfrey's first stop was at Gringotts where he set up a vault and emptied out most of his fortune from the enchanted pouch, but kept more than enough to tide him over for the year.

Godfrey ignored the stares at first. Being the boy-who-lived and then the chosen one he was used to being stared at, even if he was being stared at for a completely different reason now.

One of the things he noticed about this Diagon Alley was that instead of the salon where 'Godfrey' had been created there was a tea shop, and where there had once only been boarded up store fronts were now replaced bustling businesses. Ollivander's was among these businesses.

Godfrey couldn't remember the first time he picked out his wand though Hermione tried to provide what meager details she could. So after trying out countless wands Godfrey had to restrain himself from telling the old man exactly what wand would suit him best, just so he could speed along the process.

Finally the old man offered Godfrey the phoenix-cored wand that made his magic sing. After enduring the man's odd mumblings about great but terrible things, the wizard purchased his wand and left the narrow store to acquire some new robes.

When Godfrey strode into Madam Malkin's Robes for All Occasions he was blindsided when he saw who was being fitted for their seventh-year Hogwarts robes. He first noticed his father, whom he recognized from the photo albums Hermione was always showing him to jog his memory. Godfrey was not too affected by the surprise encounter as he had known there would be a likelihood of running into him. It was when he looked past his seventeen year old father that his breath froze in his chest.

Nothing could have prepared him for the moment Sirius Black's stormy gray eyes met his from across the store. Feeling was not something Godfrey was used too, and the sudden rise of emotions from deep inside him terrified the teen as nothing else could. Whirling around Godfrey fled from the store, painfully aware of the curious pair of eyes that followed his flight.

There would be no more exploring Diagon Alley today.

* * *

The next morning Godfrey was woken by Princess's persistent roars and some noisy scuffling. Rolling over on the creaking mattress Godfrey watched the miniature dragon do battle with a particularly vivacious mouse. The two were around the same size but once Princess, who had been named by Hagrid, launched herself into the air and began to spit fireballs at the rodent it was no contest. The interloper was soon slinking off to find another place to stay.

Noticing his attention Princess began to cartwheel in the air and preen. Chucking softly Godfrey allowed the living figurine to land on his hand, and praised her for her bravery.

Owning dragons was illegal, but there were always loopholes to any laws, so even though Princess looked and acted the same as any Hungarian horn-tail (besides her size), because she was artificially made, it was perfectly legal to own her.

When he was finished playing with the little draglet Godfrey dressed and went down to the first floor of the leaky cauldron and ate a tasteless broth for breakfast. He could feel the eyes of some of the other customers on him, but he could ignore it as long as no one bothered him.

Godfrey's second day in the past was filled with acquiring his various school supplies, including the robes he had attempted to acquire the first day. After meticulously packing his new scales, books, parchment, inks, quills, telescope, cauldron and the required potion ingredients Godfrey found he had little to do for the rest of the day.

Sitting on the creaky bed the teen's thoughts couldn't help but go to his godfather. Why had he reacted like that? Ever since the 'incident' Godfrey hadn't been capable of any strong feelings other than some negative emotions, and yet, just a glimpse of his teenage godfather sent his emotions into an uproar.

Were these feelings the same ones Hermione had told him about?

Joy, affection…Love?

He just didn't know. Growling in frustration, the teen lay in bed and tried to fall asleep.

When the dreams came they were filled with storm clouds.

* * *

On his third day in Diagon Alley the long-haired teen found himself standing in front of Eeylop's Owl Emporium. Godfrey did not relish purchasing a new owl. No other owl could compare to his snowy owl, Hedwig, who had dived in front of a killing curse meant for him. Even after Godfrey combed the entire establishment for a suitable replacement he couldn't find any owl that came close to his Heddy.

Giving up on an owl Godfrey instead tried Magical Menagerie, which carried many exotic and not-so-exotic magical pets. That too was a dead end. Godfrey was about to give up on a pet altogether, until he saw a kiosk that employed a miniaturized dragon to roast nuts. He couldn't believe he hadn't thought of it before.

"Engorgio," Godfrey cast the enlargement charm.

Back in the grubby room he had rented above the Leaky Cauldron Godfrey watched as the mouse-sized dragon grew until its body was a little larger than a cat's. Now that Princess was bigger she would be able to carry packages just like an owl. Marveling at her new found size his little draglet let out a roar of excitement.

"Enjoy being bigger Princess?" Godfrey chuckled as the horntail strutted across the room, "You can fight some cats now instead of those measly old rodents."

The dragon roared at the mention of new adversaries.

"Come on girl, lets go out," Godfrey beckoned to the dragon, which flapped over to him and clung to his back with her wing claws, snaking her spiked head over his shoulders so she had a clear view of where they were going.

The two meandered through Diagon Alley until, a little bored, Godfrey turned into Knockturn Alley. The place seemed much the same as it was in the future except for some different stores. Borgin and Burkes was still there. In the future the Harry-from-before had led a counterstrike against the store and destroyed it for supplying the Death Eaters with the weapon used to kill Ron Weasly.

With his interest peaked Godfrey entered the store, even though Princess gave a shrill protest.

"_Not . . . Dark . . . Don't Go,"_ She hissed at him.

It had come to a great surprise to the Harry-from-before that, while far from identical, Parseltongue and Dragonspeak shared a few similar words. To Godfrey it made complete sense, since basilisks and dragons share a common ancestor.

"_Fine. Calm."_ Godfrey whispered a few soothing words that he knew Princess would understand.

The Horntail quieted, and Godfrey began to explore the shop, being careful not to touch anything. He was not the only costumer so Godfrey was able to look around a bit before the shopkeeper bothered him.

Mr. Borgin was the same pot-bellied, slump man he remembered from his fractured past. Godfrey could just vaguely recall killing him with a reducto aimed at the rusty contraption hanging, even now, from the ceiling.

"Ah," the man's voice was oily thick as he thoroughly invaded the teen's personal space, "I see you are admiring The Pullman's Dagger. Excellent, excellent eyes you have for spotting that. Quite a handy object, especially for people who need to make a quick get away, if you know what I mean."

Godfrey knew exactly what he meant.

"I've never seen you before in Knockturn Alley," greasy man leered at him, eyes roving rudely over his body. "What's your name young'n? Mayhap I know your parents."

Godfrey turned cold eyes on the shopkeeper, and a vindictive pleasure rose when the man flinched and stepped back. Smoke billowed from Princess' snarling maw as she growled threateningly at Borgin.

"Mayhap?" Godfrey mocked quietly, but his voiced held all the crushing weight of thunder. "Mayhap my name is none of your concern. And mayhap you keep your greasy nose out of the business of others."

"M-m-meant n-no h-harm milord," the terrified man stuttered as he stumbled back, waving his hands in front of his chest in a placating manner.

Godfrey just barely restrained himself from sneering at the man. The gesture would have been far too Malfoy for even Godfrey's liking. Turning back to the wall of blades the boy took down the knife he'd really been inspecting.

Unlike all the other jewel encrusted monstrosities that were displayed this knife was deceivingly plain. It had an unadorned, yellowed bone handle that felt good in his grip and a simple but sharp white blade. The blade was single edged and no longer than one of his pale fingers.

Godfrey tossed the handle between his hands and was satisfied by how right the blade felt. Lifting the weapon up Princess gave an exploratory sniff, swiped the blade with her forked tongue, and grumbled in approval. Godfrey was glad he had the horntail's sanction; any item that didn't was either destroyed or went missing by the first week.

"How much?" Godfrey voice seemed to startle the clerk, who had been watching the weapon's progress fearfully.

"Th-that old thing? If m-milord pleases, it would b-be five g-galleons," the man's faced creased as the youth pulled out the money from his pouch, "M-mayhap milord would be interested in some other—,"

Borgin cut off when Godfrey abruptly sheathed the blade, turned, went to the counter, deposited his money on the countertop, and then exited the store with his purchase without another word to the frazzled shopkeeper or the wide-eyed costumers.

It was dark when Godfrey returned to his room at the leaky cauldron, so after eating the gruel that was provided for dinner he drifted into a light slumber.


	3. Let Them Stop And Stare

**Author's Note: **All aboard the Hogwarts Express!

**Warning: This chapter was rewritten on February 25, 2011.**

* * *

Now We Know What Not To Do Again

Let Them Stop and Stare

* * *

_The eyes of others strip me of my veneer_

_They put such weight in how a person appears_

_And so I let them stop and stare_

_Why should I falter? Why should I care?_

_Their shallowness helps hide my secret nadir_

_Where my mind, my power, and my ideals are greater_

_Than any notion those cattle could dream_

_And where I am much stronger than I seem_

* * *

**Date: September 2, 1978; 11:00 am**

**Location: Hogwarts Express**

**Condition: Departing from Platform**

* * *

"Is this seat taken?"

Godfrey turned away the window. He was curious to see who had finally summoned the courage to ask to sit with him. The long-haired wizard had arrived early at the station and was among the first to board the steam engine, ensuring him his pick of compartments. Once he had settled himself and the train began to fill up with students Godfrey had been subject to many passing stares. Soon the outside of his compartment was crowded with girls and boys trying catch a peek at the rumored beauty.

At first, Godfrey was a bit annoyed but soon the hilarity of the situation began to affect his mood, and now that the train was leaving King's Cross the gaggle of peepers would either have to clear off or finally ask Godfrey if they could join him.

It appeared one was brave enough to do just that.

Looking up from his seated position by the train window Godfrey instantly recognized the lank-haired wizard standing in the open doorway of the compartment.

"_Look at me," the potions master gasped, blood bubbling past his lips._

"Is this seat taken?" Snape loudly repeated when he didn't receive a response. Snapping out of his gruesome reverie Godfrey made a welcoming gesture towards the bench seat opposite him. The sallow faced youth loaded his trunk onto the overhead rack, and then sat, eyes fastened on Godfrey.

"I've never seen you before, and you're too old to be a first year," Severus observed, sizing the other wizard up.

"I was home schooled," he replied blandly. Instead of turning back to the window Godfrey returned Snape's scrutinizing gaze.

This younger potions master didn't look much different from the double agent Godfrey had been familiar with. The greasy hair, pointed face, pale skin, and mean expression was all there. The only real, physical differences were the lack of wrinkles and stress marks lining his face.

Severus looked like he was about to say something but before he could the compartment door was thrown open, causing Severus to jump and Godfrey to scowl.

"Well lookie here Padfoot, it's our favorite grease ball Snivelus," James Potter crowed noisily from the aisle, "Back for his seventh year, we're gonna have to make this school year count since it's the last one." The two bullies hardly even took notice of the boy sitting across from their prey, as they reached into their robes, undoubtedly to pull out their wands and hex Severus.

"Excuse me," Godfrey's voice wasn't cold. It was frigid.

James Potter spared him glance, expecting to see just another Slytherin then did a double-take.

"Who the hell are you?"

"You just barged into my compartment, harassed my companion, and now you have the audacity to demand who I am?" Godfrey's eyes were bright with an anger that had begun to drip into his voice until the wizard was spitting the words at his 'father'. "Who the hell do you think you are?"

The boy seemed thrown for a bit, but soon the arrogance returned and Godfrey began to harbor a deep sympathy for his old potions professor for putting up with this for seven years.

"I'm James Potter," the boy's chest was puffed out like a strutting rooster, "I'm Head boy of Hogwarts so you better watch what you say to me, new kid."

Knowing a lost cause when he saw one Godfrey just turned back to the window with a sigh, "Please leave." Saying the word please was hard for someone like Godfrey who had been in a position of absolute command for so long.

Potter's face went red at being so readily dismissed, but Sirius who had been silent until now spoke up.

"You're the boy I saw at Madam Malkin's a couple days ago."

Godfrey stiffened.

"Why did you—," Black never finished because, in an unprecedented loss of control on Godfrey's part, he and James were suddenly banished by Godfrey's magic.

Snape gave a squawk of surprise as his two tormentors vanished.

Godfrey paled. Losing control of his magic was childish at best, highly dangerous at worst. At the time he had just wanted them to go away, but what if he had been angry enough to wish them harm? His magic might have lashed out and injured them.

This was bad.

"Wh-what did you do to them," Severus demanded, his eyes wide with some emotion, horror maybe? "That was fantastic! I've never seen anyone vanish a _person_, and you did it wordlessly and without even drawing your wand!"

Okay, more like admiration, but still.

"Can you do other spells wandlessly," Snape was looking at him with something that screamed 'hero worship', "And where did Potter and Black go?"

"Uh," at least he didn't know that what Godfrey did was unintentional, but Severus thinking he could do magic without a wand wasn't good either, "That wasn't really a vanishing spell. It was actually a banishing charm. I just banished them from all the rail cars but the caboose, so they'll be stuck there for the rest of the train ride."

Severus started laughing, "Oh that's great! Nobody but first years sit there! Can you imagine perfect popular Potter and Black sitting with first years?" The thin boy stuck out his hand. "My name is Severus Snape, seventh year Slytherin."

"Godfrey. Just Godfrey," the other wizard responded, accepting the hand being offered to him. It seemed like he had just become friends with the man who used to give him detentions for breathing too hard. At least Godfrey could appreciate the irony.

The rest of the train ride passed with Severus filling him in on Hogwarts. Godfrey already knew all these things but had to feign ignorance for the sake of his cover. The potions master also filled him in on ways he had triumphed over the Potter/Black duo, and how Slytherins in general loved hexing Peter Pettigrew whenever they got the chance. Despite Godfrey's deep seated hatred of bullying he couldn't help but crack a smile at imagining any suffering on that rat's part.

He had always regretted that Wormtail hadn't died by his hand. Just another thing Godfrey could change.

"We're here."

Severus stated the obvious as the steam engine rolled to a stop just outside the castle grounds. Instead of saying something mean, Godfrey had actually come to _like_ Snape during the long trip; he just reached up and gently lifted his trunk from the baggage rack. Too much turbulence and Princess might roast his things as revenge.

Godfrey dutifully followed Severus through the jostling crowds, ignoring the openmouthed stares, and climbed onto a carriage filled with other Slytherin students. Godfrey couldn't help but wonder if the Sorting Hat would end up putting him into Slytherin. It had been a possibility at his first sorting, and that Godfrey had only been capable of being social with Slytherins did not bode well.

"Who is this Severus?" asked a boy that Godfrey instantly recognized.

"Godfrey this is Lucius Malfoy. Lucius, Godfrey," the greasy haired wizard introduced the two.

"Charmed," he sneered, and Godfrey inclined his head very slightly, never taking his eyes off of Voldemort's future second-in-command.

"That's Crabbe, Goyle, and Regulus Black," Snape continued, pointing at the other students in the cart. Godfrey didn't spare Twiddle Dee and Twiddle Dum a glance but his gaze fastened on Regulus.

Regulus Black did not have the roguish good looks of his older brother but he was pleasant to look at nevertheless, and he was certainly more withdrawn than his sibling.

"Godfrey was home schooled up until now," Severus explained to his friends, "He's going to be a seventh year."

"Home school? You're a pureblood then," Lucius looked at him with approval.

"What house will he be in?" asked Goyle in between shoveling food in his mouth.

"Slytherin, of course," scoffed Severus.

"You think so Severus," asked Godfrey, feigning indifference. Would he really be put in Slytherin? The house that produced more death eater's and dark lords than any other. Had he really fallen so far?

"I'm sure of it," he said confidently, "The way you put those Gryffindor's in their place was pure Slytherin." Severus launched into the story of how Godfrey had expelled James Potter and Sirius Black to the caboose and by the time he was done recounting the tale to his friends the carriage had arrived at the castle.

While the others took their seats in the great hall Godfrey made his way over to Professor McGonagall who was directing the first years.

"Single file everyone!" She noticed him standing behind her, "Mr. Godfrey you will be sorted after the first years. Stay in the back until you're called." Godfrey nodded and leaned on the wall and watched the first years toddle off to get sorted.

* * *

"Where have you two been?"

James and Sirius winced as they sat opposite to Remus and Peter at the Gryffindor table.

"Some prat banished us to the caboose," James mumbled, utterly humiliated. Sirius was scowling at the table.

"The caboose?" repeated Remus, surprised. "What did you two do that made someone banish you to the caboose?" Remus knew his friends well, and so he knew they must have done something to deserve it, not that they would admit it.

"We're innocent!" Sirius protested unconvincingly.

"I'm insulted that you would imply that Moony. Me and Padfoot can do no wrong!"

Before Remus could retaliate the Sorting started.

"That's ominous," Prongs said quietly after the hat's song was over.

"Ravenclaw!"

"The Sorting Hat's been getting more depressing every year," complained Wormtail.

"Gryffindor!"

"The war has been escalating every year," Moony retorted.

"Hufflepuff!"

"Gryffindor!"

"Slytherin!"

"What're you staring at Padfoot?" James tried to crane his head to see what was so interesting in the back of the hall that his best friend was completely ignoring them.

"Slytherin!"

"Nothing," Sirius quickly replied, turning back to watch the sorting.

"Ravenclaw!"

Once the last first year was sorted Dumbledore stood and came to the podium.

"Welcome newcomers, and welcome back everyone else. This year we have unusual, but not unheard of enrollment." Dumbledore looked towards the back of the huge room. "Godfrey if you would please come up here we can get you officially sorted." Almost as one the student body turned to watch the beautiful male stand away from the wall and stride up to the dais.

"That's the prat who banished me and Padfoot," James whispered hoarsely to the others.

"Him? You sure? He looks like a poofer to me," Peter disparaged.

"And like sexual preference makes a difference," Remus bit out, more than tired of Peter's homophobic attitude. It had been becoming harder for Moony to remain friends with Peter when he was so obviously prejudiced.

Peter looked offended. "Of course it does!" Remus would have retaliated but Godfrey had made it up to the stage and Dumbledore spoke again.

"Godfrey was home schooled before, as some young wizards and witches are, but due to unfortunate events he has been enrolled in the seventh year to finish his education at Hogwarts. I hope that each of you will give him a warm welcome."

"We'll give him a warm welcome," James muttered darkly, "Right Padfoot?"

"Hm?" Sirius was too busy staring at the male wizard to pay much attention to his friend. Godfrey was just that good-looking. Sirius wasn't really gay, as he had never had sex with a guy before, but he had to admit Godfrey was stunning. With his long black hair pulled back in a high ponytail it was obvious by his face and trim body that he was male but someone like Godfrey could not be called handsome. He was beautiful. "Oh, yeah sure Prongs."

James gave him an odd look but didn't comment. "Someone like him is a shoe in for Slytherin," Prongs alleged.

"Godfrey if you would," Dumbledore gestured to the pointed hat resting on a stool. Godfrey nodded and took a seat, placing the worn hat on his head.

There was an excited murmur in the great hall. Which house would this mysterious wizard be sorted into?

* * *

'_Well, well what do we have here?'_

'_Someone who doesn't like to be asked questions,'_ Godfrey thought back to the intrusive hat.

'_Ooo a feisty one, that's a Gryffindor trait certainly. Lucky for me I don't have to ask questions.'_ Godfrey felt the foreign presence riffling through his head and it took a lot of control not to simply boot the hat out.

'_Very funny. You should be a comedian kid. Too bad there isn't a house that values a good pun. There should be, it'd liven up the place, but seeing as there isn't . . . Slytherin maybe? Or Gryffindor. Either suits you fine, but then you've already made this choice before haven't you?'_

Godfrey stiffened a little.

'_Don't worry I'm not gonna rat you out kid. I know how to keep my brim shut. As for your house . . . Have you changed your mind? It goes against my stitches putting a parseltongue like you in Gryffindor. Salazar would of crucioed me'_

Godfrey smirked a little.

'_I'm more of a cat person.'_

'_Hmph! If you're sure—,'_

"Gryffindor!" The Sorting Hat's voice rang out through the great hall, and the groans of disappointment from the other houses were drowned out by the exuberant applause coming from Gryffindor table.

Godfrey slipped off the hat and handed it to Professor McGonagall. Nodding once to Dumbledore, Godfrey left the dais and went to the Gryffindor table. Over at the Slytherin table Severus Snape was looking at him stunned. Meeting the boys eyes Godfrey shrugged, as if to say, "beats me."

"Hello Godfrey, my name is Lily Evans. I'm the Head Girl, so if you have any questions you can ask me."

Godfrey couldn't help but stare at his young mother, who looked very much like the pictures Hermione had shown him, specifically her eyes, which were the same moss green his own eyes used to be. When Lily started blushing Godfrey realized how his prolonged staring could be interpreted. Lily certainly didn't know she was reacting to her own son. Despite this Godfrey was loathe to disengage himself from her. He wanted to know her and forge a connection with her; if not as a son then at least as a friend.

"Then do you mind if I sit with you?" Godfrey lips lifted to reveal one of his very rare and very elusive smiles. "I don't know anyone here except for Severus and isn't it a big faux pas to sit at another house's table?"

"O-of course!" Her voice stammered a little as she led him back to where she was sitting. "You know Severus?"

"Yes we met on the train," Godfrey replied as he took the place some overly enthusiastic girls cleared for him to sit at so he could take a seat next to Lily.

* * *

"Look at him sitting next to her," growled James, angrily stabbing at his food as he glared viciously at the attractive wizard all the girls, including Lily, seemed to be gushing over.

"He has to sit next to someone James," sighed Remus, quite used to his friend's displays of unwarranted jealousy.

"But why does it have to be _her_," he moaned, "He could sit next to anyone!"

"Don't worry James that poofer probably doesn't even _like_ girls," said Peter.

"You think?" James looked up from his slouched position hopefully.

Remus scowled, "I hate to break it to you James but he also has to room in someone's dorm too."

"No," he sounded horrified, "Moony tell me it isn't so!"

"It is," the werewolf informed him with zero sympathy, "Because you and Sirius—,"

"And Peter! Don't forget wormy," interrupted James.

"_And_ Peter," Remus ground out, "Played that horrible prank on William—,"

"Horrible! It was brilliant!" Interjected Sirius.

"—our dorm is now the only dorm that has a vacancy for another seventh year student," Remus finished, enjoying Peter's and James' reactions.

The confirmation came after supper when the marauders went to their dorm room and found a strange trunk sitting by William's old bed.

"Why me," James groaned dramatically as he flopped down on his own bed, an arm thrown over his face.


	4. I'm Not Like You

**Author's Note**: Here's a little contest for you guys. Each chapter and the story itself are named from different song lyrics by the same artist/band (The verses, however, are poems written by myself). The first one, who can tell me who the artist/band is in a **review**, gets to pick Godfrey's **first kiss** in the story. Depending on the choice it could happen soon or a little farther into the story. The options are:

Sirius Black (The obvious choice.)

Regulus Black (Sibling rivalry's always fun.)

Remus Lupin (I think it'd be so cute)

James Potter (Ha-ha! It would totally be an accident, but it'd be really funny!)

Severus Snape (Just because it isn't nearly as bad as Peter.)

Lily Evans (Not initiated by Godfrey, as he does not have an Oedipus complex.)

* * *

Now We Know What Not To Do Again

I'm Not like You

* * *

_I can't help but notice how different we seem_

_And though it was once my fondest dream_

_To be as you are and for us to compare_

_I can see now what before I wouldn't dare_

_That I'm not like you, and I don't want to be_

_Why be like you when I am like me_

_Perhaps under a scientist's microscope we are the same_

_But my own fortitude puts yours to crying shame_

* * *

**Date: September 3, 1978; 1:00 am**

**Location: Hogwarts Castle**

**Condition: School Year in Session**

* * *

When Godfrey jolted awake his body and bed sheets were damp with cold sweat. Even as he tried to recall his dream the young wizard could feel the dregs sinking back into his subconscious, where it would lurk until another night.

Godfrey lay in bed for hours staring at the velvet canopy overhead, unable to fall back asleep. His recurring insomnia had never bothered him much before. It had just meant that the days he couldn't sleep could be spent scouting or fighting. But in this time Godfrey didn't have a means to whittle away the restless hours. That was when reality sunk in for the time traveler. He was no longer a headmaster, a general, or the most well-known hero of his time.

Lying in the plush, curtained bed all Godfrey had to do was think and that was the last thing he wanted to do.

Quietly, so as not to wake his dorm mates, he pushed aside the charmed bed curtains and placed his feet of the warm wood floor. There was a rustle and reptilian claws hooked onto his night clothes as Princess clung to his chest, and Godfrey's untied hair fell like a silken waterfall down his back.

Godfrey silently exited the dorm.

After dinner in the great hall Dumbledore had actually called him to his office. The old wizard talked to him for almost two hours, and though Godfrey contributed very little to the conversation he could feel himself relaxing around his old mentor, who he had only been able to remember in snippets before. Dumbledore seemed to have taken the socialization request made by the late Mr. Ferdinand Jerkle very seriously.

Godfrey didn't argue. It hurt his pride a bit, but that was nothing compared to being in Dumbledore's presence again. It did, however; keep him from meeting his dorm mates as they were already in their beds with the curtains drawn before he returned.

The common room was empty except for two house elves, who quickly scurried out of sight, and the crackling fire that was still lit in the fireplace. Godfrey took a seat in one of the red, velvet armchairs by the hearth, and Princess crawled off his lap and into the fire, curling into tight ball.

Seeing a pile of logs stacked next to the hearth, Godfrey leaned forward and picked one up. As the young wizard had often done before in his spare time, Godfrey pulled the small knife he had purchased at Borgin and Burkes and began to carve into the block of wood. The knife sliced through the hard grain like it was warm butter and the weight of the yellowed bone handle felt reassuring in the palm of his hand.

Godfrey worked silently through the remaining hours until dawn. When the sky began to brighten outside the tower, there was pile of shavings on the floor and a wooden doe resting in his hand.

Standing, Godfrey brushed the dust from his clothing with his free hand and pondered the carved deer, whose neck was gracefully bent as if grazing. He wanted to give it to his mother, but he didn't want her to interpret the gift as anything flirtatious on his part. Leaving it anonymously would have to do.

He called Princess out of the warmth of the fire.

"Leave this near Lily Evans," He ordered the reptile quietly, and soon the dragon was winging itself up the girls' stairs with the prize clutched in its hind claws.

Entering the dorms once again he glanced at the grandfather clock that stood in the corner and that it was now a quarter till six. Breakfast wouldn't be served any earlier than 6:30 and taking advantage of the fact that his roommates had yet to rise, Godfrey took a nice hot shower, and after leaving the bathroom, pulled on a set of black robes.

Just after pulling the fabric over his shoulders one of his roommates got out of bed and Godfrey was suddenly face to face with Remus Lupin. Horrible memories rushed forward at once and flooded his mind.

"_Every time a dementor comes near me I hear my parents dying," Harry said quietly to his professor. Trying to make him understand why he had to push himself so hard._

_Remus was coming at them, clawed hands outstretched, and his snarling jaws wide, but a black dog hurled itself at the werewolf, knocking it bodily away from the three terrified children._

_He had her! She was bleeding so much and making an awful noise, but he had her! He just needed to get her back to the—_

_His chest was bleeding heavily and the weighty sword was slipping from his bloody hands as he fought, and failed to keep his footing. Harry watched as the decapitated body lying at his feet started to contort— _

_Pain! So much pain! Cracking! Twisting! Breaking down and building up, and when it is all over Ripclaw is alone. So terribly alone._

"Ah," the other boy seemed a little surprised at not being the earliest riser, but quickly overcame it, "Good Morning!" he crowed heartily, "And welcome to Gryffindor House. I'm Remus Lupin one of your new housemates and a prefect. I suspected that you would end up in our dorm but when you didn't show up after the feast I thought I was wrong."

Godfrey blinked, unnerved about the flashbacks. He stared at the hand Remus was offering him; too afraid to reach out and touch it, but Remus awkwardly withdrew it after a moment, interpreting his fear as unfriendliness.

"Uh—well, I better go get ready," Remus trailed off awkwardly as he fled to the bathroom. The loud bang of the bathroom door being hastily shut must have woken up the others since Godfrey could hear the three other boys groan and rustle around in their beds.

Angry at himself, Godfrey sat on his trunk and waited until the other boy re-emerged from the bathroom. When he did Godfrey stuck out his hand.

"Nice to meet you Remus Lupin, I'm Godfrey."

Remus looked taken aback at first, but soon a smile spread across his face and he accepted Godfrey's hand.

Amicably they carried on with some small talk as they exited the tower and headed to the great hall for breakfast. They found the hall mostly empty except for a dozen or so students, mostly Ravenclaws, who were working on homework or reviewing for their classes. Taking seats next to each other at the otherwise empty table, Godfrey and Remus began to select food from the multitude of platters.

"I noticed," started Remus as he rolled some sausages onto his plate, "that you didn't mention your family name, why is that?"

Godfrey hummed for a moment, ladling some porridge into his bowl, as he glanced at Remus. He had never noticed that Remus was handsome before, perhaps not in the way of Sirius or his father, but no less charming in his own way. Remus had been so haggard in the future by his werewolf status there had been nothing youthful about him, though he was only in his thirties at the time. Godfrey found he liked Remus this way.

"My family died when I was an infant, and then I was sent to live with atrocious relatives that weren't shy about letting their disdain for me known. I do not wish to carry a family name because I feel it would unduly burden me to them."

Remus paused thoughtfully, but had the grace not to make some kind of apology for his parents death, instead he said, "Why not make up another name? Surely it would be less confusing for others?"

At this Godfrey smirked a bit. "That would require me to give a damn about others, which I don't. If they are confused they may ask, and if I feel generous I might tell, otherwise they can wonder."

The other boy frowned at him for a minute, but didn't comment, and instead tried to steer the conversation back to calmer waters.

"Where were you schooled before you came here?"

"I was home schooled," Godfrey replied nonchalantly.

"Godfrey!" A feminine voice called from the great hall's entrance. Turning, Godfrey saw Lily making her way towards them. She plopped down next to him and in the atrociously backward manner of all morning people—began to chatter. "Good morning Godfrey, Remus. Did you sleep well last night Godfrey?"

"Well enough," he answered vaguely but Lily nodded happily.

Lily and Remus carried the conversation as the Great Hall began to fill, and soon enough James, Sirius, and Peter were skulking into the room. James, when he caught sight of Lily sitting with the newcomer, sent Godfrey a malevolent glare and sat a little further down the table. Surely so he could be close enough to listen but not close enough so they would be sitting together. Godfrey nearly snorted at the childish behavior.

"Mr. Lupin, Ms. Evans your schedules," Prof. McGonagall handed the two their slips of paper before turning to him. "Mr. Godfrey according to your record and test scores you are eligible to take anything excluding Ancient Runes, Arithmancy, History of Magic or Muggle Studies. That leaves you with Potions, Defense against the Dark Arts, Transfiguration, Care of Magical Creatures, Charms, Astrology, and Herbology."

"I'll drop Astrology, Care of Magical Creatures, and Herbology," replied Godfrey.

The Professor's face pinched. "Are entirely sure that it is wise of you to keep such a busy schedule, Mr. Godfrey? Most of our students choose to take only two or three classes for their NEWTs. I understand that because you were never formerly educated that you might not be fully aware of the stress that accompanies the rigorous study that the NEWTs demand."

"Thank you for your concern Professor," said Godfrey coolly, "but it is unneeded. I'm fully prepared to take on the work load."

"As you wish, Mr. Godfrey," she said, handing him his own schedule, which was immediately snatched by Lily.

"We have Potions together next period," said Lily, sounding pleased.

"Oh? Would you care to be lab partners then?" he asked and Lily flushed happily. James Potter on the other hand looked murderous. Oh well, he couldn't please everyone.

* * *

Remus was becoming rather worried. James had yet to say a word since potions class began; all he did was stare wrathfully in Godfrey's direction. Sirius also seemed to be unable to take his eyes of the wizard, though for different reasons he was sure. The werewolf was completely convinced that Sirius was straight so this was also a bit unsettling. Godfrey wasn't necessarily his friend, but Remus liked him. He was very blunt and straightforward even to the point of insensitivity, yet Remus wanted to know more about him. He did not want his overly jealous friend to start a bullying campaign against Godfrey like he had Severus Snape.

Remus was actually more worried about James than Godfrey. The intense boy didn't seem like the kind that would take any antagonism lying down. James was just too jealous and proud the recognize that.

Tuning back into what Professor Slughorn was saying, Remus had to hold back a laugh as the socialite tried to collect Godfrey, who simply stared at him coldly. With no connections to the boy's family that he could draw on Slughorn resorted to flattery, as he did with muggleborn students like Lily, but which was having absolutely no effect on Godfrey. Floundering under his blank stare, Slughorn gave up for now and continued the lesson.

"Well," he started, his bushy mustache twitching humorously, "now that you are all in your seventh year we can begin brewing more volatile potions. One wrong ingredient, one wrong turn could spell disaster." The small class of six Gryffindors and seven Slytherins shifted uneasily. "But," Professor Slughorn smiled jovially, "I'm sure those as talented as you will do just fine."

"Laying it on a bit thick isn't he?" Remus heard Godfrey whisper into Lily's ear from the table in front of his and James'. Lily jabbed the boy in the side with her elbow, but also giggled. Remus had never heard Lily giggle before. Shooting James a glance he grimaced when he saw James hadn't taken his eyes of the two.

"Today we will be brewing a very potent elixir that was once called the fountain of youth. Can anyone tell me why it was once called this?"

Lily's hand was in the air before Slughorn could finish asking the question.

"It was once called the fountain of youth, because the witch who created it, Vanessa Verita, lied about its true properties and claimed that it gave the drinker immortal life. She filled her garden fountain with the potion and invited anyone to have a drink. When her neighbors tried it they were turned to stone—," Lily explained.

"Which is why it is now rightfully dubbed Medusa's Malady," Slughorn finished, clapping happily. "Ten points to Gryffindor Miss Evans, well done." Lily blushed happily at the praise. Reaching to the bench next to him, the professor lifted a clear bottle, filled with cheery gold liquid, for the whole class to see. "Despite its misleading looks this notorious potion was once on the Ministry's Unbrewable List. It was taken of the list once an antidote was created, but make no mistake, this potion is deadly."

Remus watched in awe as the professor drew some of the shimmering liquid into an eyedropper and then lifted a squirming mouse to the small tube. Once he managed to squeeze a drop into the rodent's gaping maw it let out a shriek before turning to stone.

The professor set the frozen mouse on his desk. "This is the result of drinking Medusa's Malady. There has been an antidote since the thirties, but if an accident was to occur," suddenly Slughorn swept the mouse from the desk and it fell to floor, shattering on impact, "no amount of it could put the pieces back together."

The sight of the mouse's gritty remains certainly did its job in instilling a fearful respect for the potion among the students. Seeing this, Slughorn promptly vanished the rubble and gestured to the blackboard. "The directions are on the board. Begin."

Soon the entire room was filled with the sounds of ingredients being chopped, amounts measured, and potions boiling. About thirty minutes into class Remus was working diligently at cutting snapdragon stems, so diligently that he didn't notice James' sabotage until it was too late.

Lily had gone to the supply cupboard and Godfrey's back was turned to the potion when James levitated an acorn into their cauldron. The bang was deafening and the potion exploded, splashing all over Godfrey's back. The material of his robes began to smoke as the unfinished potion turned acidic and ate through his clothing.

Remus immediately rounded the table to help Godfrey pull his outer robes off, but the acid was already eating into the shirt underneath and so they pealed that layer away also. By the time Slughorn crossed the room and vanished the potion Godfrey was standing in the middle of class naked from the waist up.

Frantically Remus checked the other boy's back for burns, but, thankfully, only found pale muscled skin. Remus shut his eyes and sighed with relief, though it was barely audible amid the chaotic din of the classroom.

"Thank you Remus."

Remus opened his eyes, smiling, but then his gaze fell on Godfrey's chest as the boy turned. The smile fell and Remus suddenly felt like he had been turned to stone. He could not move. He could not breathe.

"Class is dismissed," Slughorn called out as he guided Godfrey to the doors hurriedly, "while I take Godfrey to the infirmary." The two vanished through the doors with Lily following closely behind. Still buzzing, the other students vanished their own potions before trailing out after them.

Remus, however, stayed frozen.

"Remus? Are you okay?" Sirius asked him tentatively, James looked worried too. They were the only students still in the room.

Slowly the wizard's head turned and he gazed at his two friends, horror painted across his face. When opened his mouth to tell them what was wrong, his voice was barely a whisper.

"He's a werewolf."


	5. It's Not His Fault

**Author's Note:** And the winner is… kmart29! Woooo! Kmart29 gave me the option between Regulus and Remus, so I guess I'll keep it as a surprise. The answer was Maria Mena, good job to those of you who got it right. Thanks to all of you who pointed out my typo *blushes* I was working on another HP fic at the same time and I guess my head was on autopilot. I would just like to reiterate to all my readers that while Sirius and Godfrey will be the main pairing, Godfrey will have sexual relations with other people. See ya's!

* * *

Now We Know What Not To Do Again

It's Not His Fault

* * *

_It's not his fault, I swear it's not_

_Who could've known I'd draw this lot_

_Please don't blame him, it doesn't make this right_

_Blaming the dead is just a losing fight_

_It's just worse now that he isn't here_

_My limbs shake and my heart fills with fear_

_And as my crazed mind begins to sink_

_"I'm so alone!" Is all I can barely think_

* * *

**Date: September 3, 1978; 9:47 am**

**Location: Hogwarts Castle**

**Condition: School Year in Session**

* * *

"Who's a werewolf?" asked Sirius, confused.

"Godfrey is," Remus answered breathily. His face was pale and his body wouldn't stop shaking.

"What?" squawked James. "Why would you think that?"

"The scars," Remus said simply. Those scars…so grotesque, and yet…Godfrey made them look so beautiful.

"What scars?" asked James, but Sirius seemed to understand. He had seen them too.

"Moony, those claw marks could've come from anywhere," reasoned Sirius, placing a placating hand on his friend's trembling shoulder. Remus glared at him.

"I know what I saw," snapped the werewolf, shaking Padfoot's hand off his shoulder, "and those were made by a werewolf." His trembling stilled and Remus balled his fists and glared defiantly at the two. He knew he was right. Why were they even arguing with him?

"Claw marks? Godfrey has werewolf scars?" James seemed disturbed by this news. "But Remus couldn't it have been, I don't know, a bear or something?"

"Yeah," Sirius chimed in, "or some other kind of magical creature."

"No!" snarled Remus. "Do either of you even listen in Defense against the Dark Arts? Scar tissue caused by a werewolf is distinguishable by its white coloration in normal lighting and its silver luster when exposed to moonlight, and Godfrey's scars were bone-white!"

His two best mates traded glances, as if asking the other what he should do.

"Look, Moony—," James started but Remus, remembering something, abruptly cut him off.

"What were you thinking James?" Remus railed against him. "You could have killed him with that stunt you pulled in class! If you weren't my friend I'd turn you over to Professor Slughorn in a heartbeat! Don't you ever so much as think that tampering with a highly dangerous potion is a good prank ever again or so help me Prongs I'll throttle you!"

James, in his defense, looked somewhat sheepish.

"But Moony," he whined, "you saw how that git was getting all cozy with Lily. I had to do something! Come on Sirius, back me up."

Sirius was dubious. "I don't know Prongs. That was pretty dangerous. You shouldn't have gotten so worked up. Lily and Godfrey were just sitting together." Remus couldn't help but be a little surprised that Sirius was taking his side over James'. James was surprised too.

"Like you're the right one to preach about not getting worked up! A bit hypocritical of you after that stunt you pulled with snivellus—,"

"Stop it!" Remus snapped. He did not want to air that particular piece of dirty laundry ever again. To think if James hadn't interfered, he and Sirius would have become murderers that night.

James shut his mouth but sent Sirius a scathing glare that the other boy returned.

"I-I think I should tell Godfrey I'm a werewolf too, so he knows he's not alone," Remus sighed, pushing a hand through his hair.

"No way!" shouted James. "We can't trust him! Bloody hell Remus you just met the guy and you want to tell him our secret!"

"Excuse me James, but I believe this my secret to tell, not yours!"

"You're dead wrong Moony," interrupted Sirius, "Ever since we became animagi this became our secret. You're not the only one who'd be in big trouble if this got out."

Remus' eyes narrowed but he jerked his head in recognition of what Sirius said. He shouldn't have said it was his secret alone. Since first year they had been in this together, but…He doubted Godfrey had had that particular blessing bestowed on him.

"You're right," the werewolf admitted, "This is our secret and I don't know Godfrey very well, but—I know how it feels to be alone, without a pack, and its torture. Everything horrible about being a werewolf is a hundred times worse when you suffer through it alone." Tears were prickling at the corners of Remus eyes and his hands clutched at his chest desperately.

"Moony," Sirius whispered, stepping closer to his friend. James was already there with an arm around his shoulders.

"I'm not alone anymore," Remus whimpered, "b-but Godfrey…Godfrey is alone, and I don't want him to be."

The other two marauders exchanged looks.

"Maybe we should tell him," Sirius trailed off, looking at James.

"Look Moony, we shouldn't rush into this. The full moon is in a week. I say we wait until then and get something foolproof before we tell him anything. There aren't a lot of places you can change into a werewolf around here without being noticed. Two of us will be with you at the shack and one will track Godfrey with the map. That way we'll know for sure."

Sirius and Remus stared at James disbelievingly.

"What?"

"Wow Prongs! That actually sounded well thought out," said Sirius a look of awe lighting his face.

"Piss Off!" snapped James.

"Where was all this intelligent planning when you blew up Godfrey's cauldron?" asked Remus, his lips twitching upwards into a smile.

"I think our friend's turning into a Slytherin, Moony!"

"You guys suck," grumbled James.

* * *

After escaping Madam Pomfrey's grasp Godfrey found himself unwilling to go to his Charms class and instead slipped into a quiet section of the library. The botched potion, thankfully, did nothing more than eat through his robes, though that in itself was disastrous enough. He was sure Remus had seen his scars and had connected the dots. The young wizard was actually surprised that the other hadn't rushed to confront him yet, but he counted his blessings. Godfrey had planned to keep the marauders completely in the dark and yet on the first days those plans had all turned to shit.

Life and chance often spoiled the best laid plans no matter how in control of the situation you feel. Godfrey likened it to an experience in his youth, when the Dursleys' took Harry and Dudley to the circus. His aunt and uncle had not wished to take him but couldn't find someone to watch him. He remembered standing to see the ringmaster perform with his trained tigers. He remembered how the tigers performed elaborate tricks and how the trainer had seemed confident and in control with his bullwhip. He remembered Dudley shoving him and turning his eyes away for a moment only to hear his aunt shriek. Harry turned back in time to see one of the ringmaster's beloved tigers mauling him in the center of the ring. The man died and the tiger was put down, the circus packed up and left, as if nothing had happened. Harry of course didn't understand the lesson, but Godfrey did. Control was only an illusion.

Even Godfrey had once thought he could control things, and he guessed he still did in a way, what else could make him think he could change the past? Control the future by manipulating the past? Damn. He guessed he hadn't learned his lesson, after all. Fuck. That meant that horrible night was all for nothing.

_The occupants of the castle had been enjoying nearly a week long reprieve from the fighting. Voldemort's forces had drawn back to Hogsmeade, giving the rebels opportunities to restock on a dangerously low food supply. Godfrey was still Harry, though not the Harry-from-before, and was the new rebel leader. Professor McGonagall had been assassinated a mere two months before._

_Harry didn't trust this brief peace, but unless he wanted starvation he had to take advantage of it. Hermione, perhaps the only person Harry felt any affection for since the accident, had insisted on leading a team to meet their suppliers. That team never made it back._

_The night after Hermione was supposed to return every one of the rebels were standing on the wall watching in horror as the death eater's put on their macabre show. They were too far for spells to reach but close enough that their sickened audience could see the torture._

_Dozens of bonfires lit the scene as the Dark Army strung the missing rebels up by their ankles from a wooden construct. In the very middle, two others hanging from either side, was Hermione. Harry was standing frozen, unable to do a thing. Others were crying helplessly. Their captured comrades were as good as dead._

_The death eaters didn't announce their demands. At this point they had given up on forcing surrender, now they just wanted to wipe out anyone still opposing them. Harry squeezed his eyes shut for a moment, not wanting to see this, but they snapped open when heard someone scream._

_"Werewolves!" a woman howled hysterically, "They're werewolves!"_

_Harry's eyes snapped opened to see a dozen death eaters hunch over and changing into the terrifying creatures known as werewolves. Tilting his head up, Harry saw the bright full moon shining out from between the clouds._

_"No, no, no." Harry heard Neville whimpering beside him._

_The distant blood curdling screams and dragged his attention back to the scene and he watched as the werewolves jumped and leapt to drag their claws and teeth_ _over the five rebels, as if they were tasty treats. The captives were tied just high enough that the werewolves would have to work in order to get at them. Ensuring a slow and horrifying death for all five of them._

_When a werewolf sprung up and raked its claws down Hermione's side, Harry was beyond reason. Even now he could hardly remember how he got there. To him it was as if one moment he was standing with the others on the castle wall and the next he was running into a throng of werewolves, the sword of Gryffindor clutched in his hands._

_Goblin-made and steeped in the poison of a basilisk, the sword dealt death wherever it fell. Harry must have killed half of them before they even realized what was happening, so distracted they were by their victims and their bloodlust. Then they began to fight back. They worked together to surround him and attack from behind. Harry had thought he had thwarted their attempts but when he drove his blade into the last werewolf's throat a terrible blow from behind crushed his ribs and sent him sprawling to the ground. A werewolf that had escaped his notice was able to sneak behind him and almost crush the wizard with a backward sweep of its thick arm._

_Stunned and unable to move, Harry was sure that he would die. The creature stalked forward raising long muscled arm straight up, so that the moon glistened against its curved claws. Just as that arm began to descend with crushing power a dark shape plowed into creature, throwing it bodily away. The two werewolves grappled with each other and Harry was hard-pressed to predict the winner._

_Darkly glittering arcs of blood filled the night air as the two creatures tried their damnedest to kill each other. Suddenly one let out a horrible scream and went limp in the other werewolf's teeth. With a loud thump the thing's body fell to earth and the victor let loose a howl of triumph. As the last of it's howl faded into the night the werewolf's head lowered and looked Godfrey straight in the eye._

_"Shit," Harry breathed as he stared into the werewolf's yellow eyes. His gaze flickered behind him and to the right. About three meters away the sword of Gryffindor laid in the grass. Too far away to reach, he'd have to run for it. A wand lay heavy in his pocket but Harry knew better than to reach for it, werewolves were magic resistant, it would take at least three wizards firing simultaneously to take down a werewolf. Harry didn't have to look around to know there were no other wizards nearby._

_Harry was very much aware of the rise and fall of his chest as he and the werewolf watched each other. He was at the disadvantage, being that he was weaponless and on the ground, but werewolf made no move to finish him off. Looking once more over his shoulder, Harry decided to try for the sword. Lunging to his feet, he took two sprinting steps before the creature was on him. He screamed as he felt the thing's claws tear at him and it's teeth sink into his hip. Desperately he tried to escape and reach the glittering saber that lay just out of reach, but werewolf refused to release its snack and sunk its thick claws deeply into his flesh._

_While one hand frantically fumbled in the grass, trying to reach the sword, Harry's other hand seized his wand and wildly began to cast punching hexes over his back. The wizard knew he scored a direct hit when the werewolf gave a startled yelp and dropped him. Scrambling forward Harry's hand wrapped tightly around the sword's hilt and turned back to the monster, swinging the sword along with his body in a powerful stroke that sliced through the werewolf's neck in one blow._

_Harry struggled to his feet and tried to breath past the pain that was consuming his body. His chest bled heavily and the weighty sword slipped from his bloody hands as he fought, and failed to keep his footing. Harry watched as the decapitated body lying at his feet started to contort and change back into the man it once was. The fierce visage of the beast melted back into the features of an unassuming man that Harry recognized. Letting out a startled cry, the wizard tried to struggle away from the corpse of his father's old friend, Remus Lupin._

Coming back from the memory, Godfrey couldn't stop a choked cry from leaving his lips. These flashbacks were becoming too real and happening far too frequently, and these people that he hardly remembered as people, but as nightmares, were triggering them.

Godfrey wondered what his new friend Remus would think if he knew that Godfrey was the one who killed him. Hermione in her very last moments, as she tried to breathe past blood pooling in her lungs, had told him that it wasn't his fault. Hermione was a smart witch so she was probably right, but meeting Remus now, in his youth, Godfrey couldn't help but hate himself.


	6. Author's Note

Master: Blurby! Where's that next chapter! You were supposed to have had it finished ages ago!

Blurby: *pops into existence* Oh noes sir I's been at college, no time to write fanfiction.

Master: What? College! House elves don't go to college! They wouldn't accept you!

Blurby: Blurby's college is very progressive.

Master: Ugh! So you're saying you haven't been working on a new chapter at all?

Blurby: I's is a bad house elf Master, a very bad house elf! *twists ears*

Master: *frustrated* Stop it! It's fine, just work harder and put out a new chapter, and you'll be a good house elf again.

Blurby: *wails*

Master: Whats wrong now?

Blurby: I's no finish the story! *sobs and twists ears*

Master: What? Why the hell not?

Blurby: Its no good Master! No good at all! I has to rewrite!

Master: *wrings house elf's neck* Do you realize how long that would take!

Blurby: It has to-ack-be done. They char-ack-ters are too shallow and the first ch-aaah-pter was to misleeeeading...

Master: Just pretend nothing's wrong and keep putting out chapters.

Blurby: C-can't...Already started.

Master: Fine. *drops house elf* But if you mess up again then thats it! You're getting the sock!

Blurby: Oh noes! Not the sock! Anything but that! Blurby be a good house elf from now on!

Master: Good. Now go iron your hands-wait, no, iron your feet. You need your hands to type.

Blurby: *sniffle* Yes Master.

Okay you heard it from the horses mouth, er, house elf's mouth...I'm rewriting Now We Know What Not to Do Again. This not some crappy little rewrite where I change the character's hair style or something, I mean full on re-write.

I know some of you will be disappointed, some will be pissed, and I am feeling pretty sheepish thats its taken me so long to do anything with this fic, but as I said above, college really took over and I got a bit side tracked. Its not only college thats made me falter but also the mistakes and some my decisions for this fic have really begun to bother to the point where I feel like it could be so much better. In the past few months it has really been a strain to continue the story as it is. I need to make some changes, and I need you guys to trust me to make those changes.

The chapters I've written so far are actually re-written, not just changed from the original, that would be editing not rewriting. Below I've listed some of the big changes I'm making and a little of the reasons why. I'd love some feedback and I always try to take my readers into account, many of these changes have originated from constructive criticism, but please don't try to change my mind on this stuff, its already been made up.

1.) Harry won't change his name to Godfrey (I've gotten over my disgust of the name Harry)

2.) This fic will start around the end of Deathly Hallows after the death eaters attack Hogwarts, not a few years into the siege

3.) Instead of a misaligned spell, Harry suffers from a dementor attack.

4.) The way in which Harry is transported to the past has changed.

5.) The reason why Harry was sent to the time he was sent. (This was the big one for me. As the story went on my vague reason seemed very half-hearted and after the fact, not a good way to write a story.)

6.) Although Harry's appearance will be slightly altered, he will not look anything like Godfrey. (When I first wrote Godfrey I was very shallow, thinking that Harry had to be dramatically altered to be attractive, but now I realized thats complete bullshit. I know a lot of you won't like this but it's just what I've decided.)

7.) Princess is no more. (Yes, I know, Princess was awesome, and who among us does not dream of owning a dragon and I hadn't intended to cut her out but as I wrote the first chapter she just didn't show up and when I wrote the second chapter she was replaced by another familiar. I've learned not to fight my genius and it was clearly telling me Princess was just not to be part of this story anymore.)

8.) More Sirius Black in the second chapter. (Who can argue with that?)

I'll tell you straight up that Harry is still a werewolf and much of what I was intending to do with this fic hasn't changed. This whole re-write is about taking out the unnecessary and adding all things necessary. I'll post the new chapters on a separate story (same title) you find it in the same search or on my author's page. Once I'm done re-writing the current chapters I'm considering deleting the old version completely as it won't be finished in its original form. If enough people object, however, I will leave it up. The first chapter will be posted immediately.

Thanks for all of your support.

BlasterBlurby.


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